


Refusal

by dancergrl1



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Headaches & Migraines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 20:08:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13818525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancergrl1/pseuds/dancergrl1
Summary: Philip and Anne have been arguing a lot lately. Anne doesn’t understand why Philip doesn’t lose his temper.Then she does.





	Refusal

**Author's Note:**

> I lost my groove for the thing with feathers so i needed to write something else.

Philip isn’t sure why, but he and Anne had been fighting lately. Like, a lot. It was taking a toll on him, and more nights than not, PT had taken the spot as ringmaster. The stress and the emotions were giving him major migraines and he would be down for the count for hours. The medications he took were meant for once or twice a month, and he’d taken it at least twice a week this month alone. He couldn’t take it much longer.   
\---  
“I’m home.” came the flat statement from the door.

“Lovely to see you as always. How was your day?” Philip replies cordially. 

Anne brushes by him, practically stalking into the kitchen to investigate what he’s been cooking. “It’s one of your favorites. I checked the recipe, too.” he says conversationally. 

She turns her head, turns on her heel, and goes towards the bedroom. He waits uneasily, feeling the tension creep into the air. He could feel the explosion coming. 

She returns to the kitchen, and speaks crossly. “So was it nice, being home all day?” The disdain and attitude is clear in her voice. 

“Not particularly, as I was practically incoherent until lunch.” Philip speaks evenly, as he always did when they argued. He wouldn’t lose his temper. That was his greatest fear.

Anne doesn’t stop. “So you had yourself a lie-in while the rest of us worked for our pay again. I come home, exhausted, and sore, and all you see fit to do is putter about, doing nothing. Did you even do work today?” 

Philip feels the anger bubbling, right there underneath the surface, and swallows it down, bitter though it is. 

Anne is still going on. Philip tunes back into the conversation, however one sided it may be. “I’ve been working all day, and you’ve been lying about! And this isn’t even the first time! It’s been so much this month i’m beginning to wonder who the ringmaster is! It’s supposed to be you, my loving, loyal, performing boyfriend, but instead it’s wild and energized Phineas. Which is more than I can say for you lately, you walk around here like you need a shock to the heart to become energized again.” she stops for breath, and Philip jumps into the conversation.

“I’ve had a migraine more often than not this month, you know. Well, you would if you were here. You’re never here for me. I need you for those, and you walk away like it’s nothing.” He’s showing more energy than usual, as when they argue, he refuses to get emotional, lest his temper be lost completely. 

Anne stops. “I’ve been yelling at you for a while, and now you decide to jump to your own defense?! How convenient. It’s like you don’t even care anymore! You never yell, you never defend yourself, so why now? Do you suddenly care? Do you suddenly want this to work for both of us?”

Philip considers his next action carefully. While she stands there, chest heaving with emotion, he looks at her evenly. “Because I will not to have his temper!” he shouts. 

This comment gives Anne pause. She’s seen him, around his parents. She remembers how he was around PT at first, and WD, and O’Clancy. He shied away from them, their energy, their size. He didn’t look at their faces when he would speak to them, he would stare at their hands. She remembered the first time they’d gone to the Barnum’s for dinner, and helen and Caroline had practically tackled him to the ground with the ferocity of their hugs. He’d frozen there in the entryway. 

Her tone lowers, and her face drops. “I should’ve realized.”

It’s his turn to step away from her. “I...need to go. Please, i will be back.” He offers this reassurance wholeheartedly, as he knows it’s her biggest fear. But he needs space and time, and he can’t get it with her here. 

She nods, but runs a hand along the back of his shoulders. She blocks out the heartbreak when he flinches away from the contact. “I’ll be here when you get back.” she offers sadly. 

He goes, leaving her standing there.   
\---  
Philip only has a vague idea of where he’s going to go, when he leaves, but his feet bring him to PT Barnum’s home. The butler ushers him in, undeterred by his state of disarray. He’d been a frequent visitor as of late. He takes himself to the kitchen, figuring Charity would be found either there or in the sitting room, crafting- or more likely repairing -something. The trouble her girls and her husband got into kept her on her toes. 

Sure enough, Charity is standing at the stove, stirring something thoughtfully. “Philip?” she says. She’s surprised, he wasn’t expected. 

The first bolt of pain hits as he slumps hopelessly into a chair. Choosing to save explanations for later, she gathers a rag, cold water, and the medicine for him from underneath the counter. They kept it here as well as at the circus for this particular reason. She leads him up the stairs, talking quietly to him the entire way. This wasn’t the first one she encountered, nor did she think it would be the last one. As she settled the nearly-incoherent man in bed, stripping him of his coat, shoes and tie, she considered what had been happening lately. When Philip had first shown up, completely incoherent, muttering near nonsense, her first reaction had been to call the doctor. He hadn’t been unfamiliar with the condition, and left a vial of medication for if the situation arose again. 

Philip had taken it several times this month, usually more than once per episode. It only worked for so long. She had learned cool cloths on the head and water when he was awake helped. Nothing completely fixed the problem except time and sleep. 

“Philip.” she whispered. He moaned. 

“Philip.” This was more insistent, more of an order. He groggily opened his eyes. She heaved him up to a sitting position, supporting him with a hand behind his back. She quickly prepared the dosage of the medication, and looked towards him. His half-lidded eyes were shining with tears, but from the pain in his head or the pain in his heart she didn’t know. 

“Open, Philip.” 

He obeyed unhappily, swallowed, and looked at her pleadingly. She knew what he was asking, even without words. She laid him back down, right ear against the pillow, right eye sunk into it, and with a reassuring squeeze, went about pulling the curtains in the room. She made her way back to the edge of the bed by memory. She felt around until she found his hand, and traced it up to the back of his neck. The deep breaths from below her told her he was already asleep, hopefully painlessly. She began to firmly knead the muscles in his neck, frowning at the tightness she found there. He was too young for this.   
\---  
Philip returned to his senses sometime after dark. He wasn’t sure where he was, nor what was going on. He felt the undercurrent of discomfort strumming through his head, and frowned. He’d hoped he’d be over it by now. 

A voice whispered through the dark next to him, young and scared. “Philip?” 

He closed his eyes. Dammit. He had tried desperately to not involve the Barnum children. 

“Hi, Caroline.” he whispered back. 

“Are you okay? Mommy came downstairs looking sad.” she informs him. Philip flushed, feeling a lance of vague pain shoot through his head at the raise in pressure. 

“I will be, bunny.” The longtime nickname, from her dancing and her ballet bun, made her smile. 

“You missed dinner.” she stated simply. “And bedtime, but I don’t think Helen knows you’re here.”

“Then how did you?”

“I was practicing, and saw mommy come out of here. I snuck in, and now we’re here.” 

Philip used his arms, shaky though they were, to push himself up. All but collapsing against the headboard, he lifted his arm and tucked Caroline under it. “I think it’s past time for little girls to go to bed.” 

Caroline yawned and nodded. Sliding back down, she made herself right comfortable against Philip. “Night ‘lip.” she mumbled. 

He followed suit shortly.  
\---  
He felt a hand shaking him awake, not to roughly. He opened gritty eyes to Charity standing above him. “Anne’s here.” she whispered. He closed his eyes. Not this soon. He couldn’t do it. 

“Alright. I’ll be down shortly.” he sighed. Charity stayed, sensing there was more. “Caroline was with me, last night. Where...is she?” the words were disjointed, like they were in his head, but he forced them out. 

“I sent her on her way a bit ago. She had school. She, nor I, wanted to wake you. Anne’s in a bit of a state.” She attempted to redirect the conversation. 

Philip heaved himself out of bed, and blindly put on his coat. His tie required too much dexterity. Waving a hand, Charity led the way out of the room.   
\---  
“Philip!” Anne exclaimed when she saw him. 

“Let’s take this into the sitting room?” Charity phrased it as a question, but it wasn’t, really. Philip could barely stand. 

They all took seats in the plush chairs, Charity taking a dress across her lap to repair. 

“Anne...what...why…?” Philip couldn’t decide on a question, and he was still under the influence of the migraine. 

“You promised you would come back.” she said. “You hadn’t.”

“I told you I was.” he responded. He really couldn’t do this, right now.

She nods. “But you didn’t.” 

Philip sighs. “I couldn’t, not with the state i was in.”

Anne sighs heavily, exasperated. “Okay, Philip.” she responds.

Philip gets up, headed unsteadily towards the door. Charity remains, watching unobtrusively. 

Anne looks torn, not sure if she even has a right to follow him. 

Philip glances down to the bottom of the stairs when he reaches the top. There’s a twisted satisfaction to the look of heartbreak on her face. “I’ll be back when i’m ready. I’m not leaving you.” He said softly.   
—  
Later in the day, he takes a carriage to the circus. He knows he’ll find PT and Anne there, and he does owe Anne an apology. He was much more himself, and he hoped he wouldn’t miss out on more for a good while. 

When he arrives, he goes to the main tent, the show tent. It was mid rehearsal hours, and as he enters, he looks up. Not unlike the first time they met, she’s flying above him, and their eyes lock for a moment. He breaks the eye contact, going to a seat in the back of the stands where he couldn’t be seen. He didn’t want to be seen yet. 

He should have known better. 

PT Barnum himself sits down heavily next to him. “How are you, Philip?” He asks. A soft hand finds his knee, which tells Philip that he already knows what happened. 

Philip takes a minute to evaluate how he really felt. Beating around the bush was pointless. “I’m alright. It’s ok, not great. I don’t know how to fix this.”

“I can spare her for a while. Take her to eat, talk to her.”

Philip nods. It’s worth a shot.  
—  
The pair walk down the street. Anne is wrapped in her shawl, and Philip in his daily suit. It’s ironic, because Anne knows he hates them but he wears them anyways. 

He goes into a small bistro, getting them both a pastry. He offers one to Anne, and pulls out a chair from the table. “Can we talk?”

“Yes.” Anne answers, but doesn’t add anything. 

“I don’t understand how you have been lately. I feel disconnected from you, and you seem so angry. I’d like to know what’s going on.” Philip says.

Anne looks at him. “I have been angry, i just don’t know why. And then, coming home, finding you already there, and having left you lying in bed, it just doesn’t seem fair.” She says finally. 

“I’ve been in bed because we argue. Last night, i ended up incoherent at the Barnum’s. I scared Caroline, you know that?” He asked. He wanted her to know that this wasn’t happening to them in a vacuum. It affected everyone. 

Anne’s face falls. Everyone had a soft spot for the kids. 

“Philip...I’m sorry. I want to try again.” She’s pleading, she knows it, but she still loves him. 

“I think we can try.” He replies.

The walk back to the circus is far less awkward between them. 

That night, he takes Ringmaster. Their kiss is electrifying.


End file.
